And so it happened. Thanksgiving 2020. It wasn’t all that I had hoped it would be, but it wasn’t as bad as I feared it would be either. I still missed my mom, my sister, my cousin, my aunt. I missed the traditions we’d built up over the past thirty years.
But I did learn that a dinner table with just our kids and Marc’s parents is a lot more relaxed and manageable than a huge table filled with crowds of people. I took my girls to Carlisle and walking around the cranberry bog, or at least as far as I could coax them into going because it was rainy and cold. I watched Christmas movies and drank more cocoa than was reasonable.
We’re settling in to the second wave. Or third. I’ve lost track, all I know is that the covid situation is awful, getting worse, and I’m pretty sure that Christmas is going to be a hot mess, in terms of contagion. But at this point, I’m getting used to it. We sit, I crochet, we watch too much television and read all the time. I struggle to figure out how to teach Sam and get Julie to learn her math. I exist with this low level of constant anxiety and panic, because on Tuesday, we find out if Jessie gets the Questbridge scholarship. Marc works thirty hours a day, and Julie is a pescatarian. Most of the time. We’ve decided it’s a lifestyle choice, which means if there’s a special occasion or a reason why she wants to eat meat, she can. But as a rule, she’s a pescatarian. We also discovered that Jessie can’t cook white fish, but that’s another story.
Sam has finally, mostly, stopped throwing up. I think it’s allergy related. Based on my extensive diagnostic skills. His allergist thinks I’m crazy, she sees thousands of kids a year, and allergy shots don’t cause vomiting. But the non-stop nausea started the week after the allergy shots, and stopped when I skipped a week. He started on an antibiotic, hoping that would help. Oddly enough, the puking started right back up again when he got the next week’s allergy shot. Not to be deterred, I kept freaking out about the puking. And bringing him in for allergy shots. But it occurred to me to do the research, going back thru the appointment dates, matching up when the vomiting started versus when the allergy shots started.
So now I’ve discontinued the allergy shots. Despite the fact that his allergist thinks I’m crazy. Covid-19 is everywhere, so the thought of bringing him into Children’s Hospital for more testing is less than desirable. I have no idea what I’m doing with him – but he’s feeling better, and that has to be worth something.